Overwhelmed
by smallboxes
Summary: Doug doesn't know or have the answers Tom is looking for. Contains slash situations, oneshot fic.


The pillows felt lumpy and unforgiving as Doug stretched his tired body out along the length of Judy's couch. There was no chance of being able to get any sleep out here where the whole mess had started. A few beers and the mutual bitching over each other's week had made him feel bold enough to act upon the impulse of kissing her and the next thing he knew, they were rolling around in Judy's bedroom like a couple of clumsy teenagers.

She'd stopped it though, panicked when Doug had started digging in his wallet for a spare condom. He pretended that it was okay, trying to ease her feelings more than his own. Frustration and anger started a slow burn inside of him as he accepted the pillow from her and set up camp out in the living room. He knew somewhere in the back of his head that Judy had been right; she always was.

Flipping on his side for the tenth time, Doug sighed and sat up, blinking as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Grabbing his boots, he made sure not to make too much noise as he crept out of the apartment, anxious to get out. He didn't want to think how this would look to Judy in the morning and he didn't look back as he shut the door behind him.

The cool air felt like fresh life being wrapped around him as he took off for the road on his motorbike. He guided the bike smoothly, gracefully maneuvering curves and road bumps. Doug really hadn't set a destination in mind until he arrived at the familiar apartment building, old and dark looking in the pale, moon-lit sky. Doug rode the creaky elevator to the appropriate floor, anxious with nerves and sleep deprivation and there was still probably a little alcohol buzzing through his system which is probably why he thought it'd be a good idea in the first place to show up here anyway. But it was too late, he'd already pounded on the door, loud enough that it was a miracle other people weren't answering their own doors.

Doug was about to go through the motions of leaving when the latch clicked and the door swung open to reveal Tom standing in the doorway, hair rumpled, pajamas askew, and an interesting mixed look of sleep, curiosity, and irritation.

"Penhall?"

"Hey Tom. You busy or something?" Doug started to second guess his actions and muddled apologies formed in his head as Tom wordlessly stepped aside and gave him room to enter the apartment. They walked into the tiny living room and Doug flopped onto the familiar couch as Tom shut the door.

"What's the matter? You sick?" Tom asked, flipping a variety of switches. Doug squinted at the sudden bursts of light and shook his head. "Did you get hurt or something?" Again, he was answered with a quick shake of the head. "Are you in trouble of any sort?"

"Well, not exactly…"

Tom stood on the other side of the coffee table, arms crossed as he stood staring and tried exactly to figure out what was going on. Doug felt like he could literally see the wheels turning in his head, trying to come up with more questions, more reasons why Doug could have possibly woken him up in the middle of the night for.

"Doug why are you at my door at two in the morning?"

It was a fair question. Doug continued to sit on the couch as Tom made his way over to sit on the other end. The silence between them was growing awkward and heavy and Doug couldn't think straight with all this silence between the two of them.

"I don't know," Doug replied quietly, absent-mindedly tapping his thumb against his thigh, a nervous habit. Tom sighed and leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes and probably wondering why he hadn't just ignored the door. Doug began to have the sinking realization in the pit of his stomach that coming over here wasn't the best idea.

"I don't get it," Tom stated, dragging his hand across his face in an attempt to become more awake. "You're pretty much freezing me out at work over this Adabo thing and now you just appear in the middle of the night. Something doesn't add up."

"Look, I shouldn't have come over here," Doug admitted, standing up from the couch. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket and turned to face Tom. "I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll see ya later."

"Penhall, come on!" Tom's hand reached up at Doug's arm, stopping him from going any further. "Give me a little credit here."

Doug's sigh echoed Tom's and he too started becoming extremely tired. What had he been thinking, coming over to his apartment so late at night? That was the problem, he wasn't thinking, as usual some people might say.

"I was at Judy's tonight. A couple drinks, some sob stories…things got heated." Doug walked away from the couch, unable to look at Tom for the moment. He paced quietly in the silence that followed and when he looked over at Tom, all he saw was his expressionless face.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Like I said, I don't know okay?" Doug replied, feeling agitated and tired and he now realized how stupid it was to come over here, riding high on nerves and beer. He looked over at Tom again and noticed how he was starting to get angry, a slow burn that was probably eating away at his inside. He noticed in the way that Tom clenched his fist and his jaw became tightened and the silence became thick around them as he waited for a reply.

"So you were over at Judy's tonight and you had too much to drink and you finally put the moves on her," Tom said quietly, standing from the couch and now only the coffee table separated the two of them.

"No, it wasn't like that," Doug told him, a pleading tone tingeing his words. "I was just talking to her about some things, Adabo and everything, and she was talking about some things that were bothering her…"

"So you're complaining about the case, about me?" Tom asked. Doug wasn't going to deny it, but words appeared to have escaped him for the moment. Tom continued to stare at him for a minute and out of nowhere, slammed his fist against the back of the couch, stood up and began to pace around to the back of the couch. Doug's eyes followed him as he made a short back and forth pattern around the furniture until he finally stopped and turned to face Doug.

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you that it's okay? Tell you to go home? Tell you to stay here and talk things out more?"

"I just…" Doug paused, not sure where he was going with this.

"You just what!" Tom exploded, his anger becoming too much. He turned and stared at him straight in the eyes, his breathing visible by the motion of his shoulders moving up and down in jagged motions. "Dammit Doug, you broke up with me!"

"Wait a minute, where did that come from?"

"Penhall, you can't just show up at my door at 2 in the morning and expect a little sympathy. You can't expect me not to react when you brag about your 'conquests'," Tom answered, each word sounding as though he was forcing himself to spell it out for him. "You can't expect me to act like we're together when we couldn't be further apart and that's the decision that you made."

"You think I don't know that!" Doug shot back, anger rising slowly inside of him as he began to move toward the couch. "I'm pretty well aware of the fact."

"Obviously, you seem to have forgotten if you're already rolling around with Judy." Tom said low and fiercely as Doug brought himself to stand in front of him. "Who's next, Ioki? Maybe Sal can give you a few thrills between cases."

"I didn't come here to talk about this!" Doug spat out, turning on his heel and headed for the door, clenching and unclenching his fists. When he put his hand on the doorknob, Tom's hand appeared over his and he felt Tom's other hand on his shoulder turn and push him so he slammed against the door in an unexpected forceful gesture.

They stood there, the sound of their breathing filling up the void that their words weren't. Doug felt the doorknob poke into his hip as Tom's hand still gripped at his shoulder, his fingers splayed out as if to keep him there.

"What did you want to talk about?" His voice quiet where Doug expected him to go off again and he noticed that the fierce look in his eyes was draining as he waited for an answer. The question seemed to echo inside him as Doug shook his head and used his free hand to brush off some annoying hair off his face.

"I just…" Doug said, trying to gauge a reaction from him. He didn't move when Hanson's head tilted closer and his hand gripped the doorknob behind him when Tom kissed the side of his mouth lightly and then his lips melded perfectly with Doug's before Doug could (or even want to) protest. As his body began to respond to the pure physical heat they were creating, Tom stepped back abruptly and uttered a few choice words as he dragged his hand across his eyes.

"I didn't come here for that either," Doug admitted softly, filling up the awkward silence between them. Tom stopped looking at the floor to make clear eye contact with him and he crossed his arms over his chest as he let out a sigh.

"Then why are you here?"

Before Doug could answer, the room felt like it was slowly spinning out of control and Tom, who was standing right in front of him, appeared to be fading into darkness as Doug blinked his eyes a couple of times to see that he was still in Judy's apartment, laying on that damn leather couch and the strong aroma of coffee was filtering into the living room from the tiny kitchenette Judy was in.

It felt like a relief to walk into his own apartment after the hellish night Doug had endured. He threw his black leather jacket onto the coffee table as he pressed the play button on the blinking answering machine and rushed to the bathroom to get ready for work. While squeezing the toothpaste onto the tiny brush, he listened as Hoff's voice filled the apartment.

_ "Hey Penhall, it's Judy. I'm just returning your message about hanging out tonight. Give me a call back or just come on over whenever you get the chance. Bye!"  
_

Doug grimaced as the machine clicked over to the next message and he paused in mid-brush when the new message began to play.

_ "Penhall, it's Hanson. You blew outta work so fast today, I didn't get a chance to talk to you about Adabo. Call me when you get this."_

"_Penhall it's me, Hanson, again. We really need to talk about this case if you want me to get some information on Adabo. I'll be home if you decide to stop by or anything."_

"_Doug, it's Tom. I'm starting to get worried, but it's probably nothing, right? I just...forget it, I'll talk to you at work tomorrow."  
_

Doug stood over the machine, one hand gripped over his Bugs Bunny toothbrush and the other hand pushing hair off of his forehead. And as if his hand had a mind of it's own, he found himself pressing a button on the machine.

_ "All messages have been erased."  
_


End file.
